The Lamp
by AspiringAuthor23
Summary: Jack gets drunk and hits on a lamp. R


**A/N: Though technically you could picture either Doctor, I'm picturing Ten, though he, Rose, and Jack didn't travel together. Doctor Who isn't mine, just the world I love to screw up. Enjoy! **

They were at a party.  
The Doctor wasn't entirely sure why or how it had happened, but he knew that he was also a tad bit drunk. Not enough to completely lose his head, but he absolutely felt his perpetually sharp, logical mind losing its edge. He had enough of his mind left, however, to stop before it got worse. Rose, on the other hand, had disappeared a few minutes ago for her first drink. She had refrained before, knowing that with the Doctor and Jack drinking, they would need someone to cart them back to the TARDIS. Yet she had eventually caved. Trying to take role in his mind, he realized that he had no idea where Jack was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. A party with people, alien or not, would ensure that Jack was having his own type of drunken fun.  
A few minutes passed before Rose brought him another drink when she returned, along with her own. He couldn't resist. And that was what sent him over the edge.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Some time later, he woke up, for once unable to tell how long he had been unconscious. Instinctively, he knew that it had been a long time since he had gotten this drunk. But he was better now. Looking around, he noticed that Rose was passed out on a couch about ten feet away from him, and this spurned him to action. He stood up, deciding that he needed to find Jack and get both of them back into the TARDIS where they could recover quickly.  
He glanced around. The party was still going on, as parties did on other planets—sometimes, like on Vocatus, parties such as this lasted for months. However, the crowd seemed to have dwindled a bit while he was passed out, and though it was darkly lit, he could see Jack posing flirtatiously across the room.  
Rolling his eyes, he began making his way across the room—Time Lords were able to recover quickly from alcohol usage, needing only a short nap to fully regain their normal thinking and motor abilities.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jack was drunk.  
Not only was he a little drunk, as the Doctor had originally been, but he was flat out, not-sure-what-was-happening drunk. He hadn't moved for most of the night, as people had generally come to him, but he knew one thing: if he tried to stand up, he would not make it more than an inch away from his chair. But at this point, he was past realizing that, as he stood from his chair and glanced around at the party around him. Faintly, his mind pointed out the Doctor and Rose kissing like they never had before, as well as a very nice looking man-woman-alien-it-thing to his left. But before he could take a step, he was on the floor.

He woke up before the Doctor did, still incredibly drunk, though able to form coherent sentences as he could before, jolted awake due to a loud thumping song that began just as he pulled out of the deepest grasp of sleep. It was just the right combination to pull him into the realm of the partying. Unsteadily making his way to his feet, he noticed again the attractive alien to his left, and swaggered over—at least in his mind. In reality he was stumbling, lucky he didn't face plant into a wall. He stopped only a few feet away from the short alien, about only three feet tall, and crossed his feet, putting his hand on the wall sloppily in order to strike what he believed was an impressive figure. He pulled a seductive face, one that truly looked like he was being beaten. "Hello there; Captain Jack Harkness at your service."

The alien simply stood there silently. Jack raised his eyebrows, seemingly amused. "Tough, are you? I can stand for that. I've lived with that before."  
Not getting a response once more, he edged a bit closer. "Oh, adamant. You remind me of someone. He's making out with the woman he belongs with at the moment. Only you remind me of the last him. _He_ would react if I did this." He sat down next to the alien, putting an arm around it and pulling it close, the widest part of its body brushing against his shoulder. "Oh…" his eyebrows rose once more. "You do like that. Well, let me tell you, that is not the least of it."

He began leaning in to kiss the alien before he was jerked out of his reality by a voice calling his name. It was a familiar voice, one he couldn't put a name to. A few seconds passed before he turned back to the alien, whose body, he realized, was metallically cold. "That's the man who was making out with the other woman earlier."

"Jack. What are you doing?"

"You should come back to my house. It's a box, and it's bigger on the inside. Interesting enough?"

"Jack, how many people did you invite into my TARDIS." The Doctor shook his head slightly, before remembering what was important. "What are you doing?"  
Jack looked up at him, glaring. "What does it look like I'm doing? Leave us alone."

"You must be _drunk,"_ the Doctor half-muttered to himself.

"Go away. I'm spending time with this sexy little alien."

"Jack…That's a lamp."

"Well it certainly turns me on."  
The Doctor rolled his eyes, grabbing Jack's arm and pulling him up. Yelling objections and obscenities, Jack struggled for a few minutes before he lost all of his energy and passed out once again.

He remembered nothing when he woke up, but flashes of it would come back to him as the Doctor and Rose, who had been told about the whole affair, would slyly tease him about it in the future, in such a way that he wasn't sure that it was what they were referring to. Because he himself couldn't remember if it had simply been a dream.

But he never asked.


End file.
